SPRING PRACTICE PERIOD: Stories from the Lotus Sutra

Dogen-Zenji so cherished the Lotus Sutra that he actually carved a selection of it into his door. This, the core text of not only Zen but the whole of Mahayana Buddhism, has never lost its appeal among practitioners of the Way. Join us for our SPRING PRACTICE PERIOD: Stories From the Lotus Sutra led by Sensei Joshin Byrnes, Sensei Genzan Quennell

The following text is a Dharma Talk to be offered 7-4-15 at the Upaya Sangha of Tucson

“There is an endless net of threads throughout the universe…At every crossing of the threads there is an individual.And every individual is a crystal bead.And every crystal bead reflects Not only the light from every other crystal in the netBut also every other reflectionThroughout the entire universe.”
– Words from Anne Adams, Indra’s Net of Jewels

Many of you are familiar with the image of Indra’s net, described in the Avatamsaka Sutra: A net with a many faceted jewel at each node, each jewel reflecting all the others.

In the words of the Avatamsaka Sutra:

“Far away, in the heavenly abode of the great god Indra, there is a wonderful net which has been hung by some cunning artificer in such a manner that it stretches out infinitely in all directions. In accordance with the extravagant tastes of deities, the artificer has hung a single glittering jewel in each eye of the net, and since the net itself is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number.

There hang the jewels, glittering like stars of the first magnitude, a wonderful sight to behold. If we now look closely at any one of the jewels for inspection, we will discover that in its polished surface are reflected all the other jewels in the net, infinite in number. Not only that, but each of the jewels reflected in this one jewel is reflecting all the other jewels, so that there is an infinite reflection process occurring.

This symbolizes our world where every sentient being (and thing) is inter-related to one another.”

In our Buddhist practice, we come to recognize this interdependence as our natural state. And, in those moments when it feels difficult to release from the grip of however we may be stuck, recalling our interdependence, that we have never been separate from all and everyone that exists, can be our refuge.

I find myself reflecting about interdependence on this Fourth of July holiday. As you may recall from high school history, the Second Continental Congress of the original 13 colonies approved the Declaration of Independence from Great Britain on July 4, 1776. From the first Independence Day observation on July 4, 1777, it has been a holiday celebrated by festive gatherings of family and friends – more an expression of interdependence than independence. In the most famous statement from the declaration, and perhaps in all of the English language, it is written that:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

So, in reading these words, forgiving the apparent sexist myopia, and reading the grievances that follow in the declaration, the particular meaning of independence that the declaration intended became clear: Independence from inequality and from oppressive governmental control that, without democratic representation, limited liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and sometimes life itself. Considering these words in the declaration, I’ve been struck by the degree to which their meanings presume interdependence, rather than independence.

In his widely-read and influential pamphlet, Common Sense, written in late 1775, Thomas Paine was particularly critical of the inequalities exemplified by kings and monarchies. He argued that equality is the natural state of humans, and that therefore the distinction between kings and subjects is false. Seeing the falsehood of hierarchical social distinctions requires an appreciation of interdependence. And, appreciation of interdependence is at the heart of Buddhist practice.

The first of the ten Grave Precepts, vowed in the Jukai ceremony of Zen, draws attention to this appreciation. As phased in the Zen Peacemakers version, this first Grave Precept states:

“Peacemakers throughout all space and time recognize that they are not separate from all that is. This is the practice of non-killing. I will not lead a harmful life nor encourage others to do so, and I will abstain from killing living beings, thus living in harmony with all life and the environment sustaining it.”

Though most of us likely would say that we have no difficulty in practicing non-killing, a consideration of the complexity of interdependence reveals that we are constantly taking life in maintaining our own. Even the most seemingly benign activity, such as drinking a cup of tea involves taking life: … the life of the tea plant; the lives of microorganisms in the boiling water; the lives of animals who may have lost their habitat to the tea plantation; and perhaps field workers for whom hard physical labor, inadequate wages and healthcare, shortened their lives.

Sustaining my life involves taking other lives. We remind ourselves of this in the chant before each meal at Upaya Zen Center:

“Earth, water, fire, air and space,Combine to make this food.Numberless beings gave their lives and labors so that we may eat.May we be nourished that we may nourish life.”

Killing can also occur within each of our own minds. The rejecting of any of our own mental formations is also a killing of these manifestations of life. The same humble awareness and reverence that we bring to eating, as we take life to nourish our own, is also skillful in regard to our thoughts, images, and feelings. We can honor each arising mental formation with mindful awareness, and allow each to self-liberate, passing away in the manner of all conditioned phenomena. This mindful awareness that allows each mental formation to self-liberate is quite different than distancing from, or being indifferent to, our thoughts, images, and feelings.

Distancing and indifference involve attempting to suppress some mental content, a strategy that is never very successful. In contrast, mindful awareness involves welcoming all that arises in experience, with an attitude of friendly curiosity, and without getting lost in the self-referential stories that our minds weave in conditioned response to experience. Again, our practice is not one of distancing or indifference to our stories, but rather, the same friendly curiosity and allowing of their self-liberation.

The Peacemaker phrasing of the First a Grave Precept additionally reminds that encouraging others to lead a harmful life is also a violation of the precept. Such encouragement may be subtle and hard to see. How does my purchasing of certain products, foods, etc., encourage the seller in the taking of others’ lives, livelihoods, dignity, or equanimity, thus violating this precept?

A deep appreciation of the implications of interdependence is also reflected in the four commitments of the Zen Peacemaker:

“I commit myself to a culture of nonviolence and a reverence for life.I commit myself to a culture of solidarity and just economic order.I commit myself to a culture of inclusiveness and a life based on truthfulness.I commit myself to a culture of equal rights between men and women.”

From the nondual perspective of no separation between self and other, there can be no violence, economic injustice, racial, ethnic, or cultural discrimination, or gender inequality. However, maintaining these commitments in our relative existence can be difficult. Our cultural conditioning runs deep, and often operates outside of our awareness. Culture and its artifacts, such as television, movies, magazines, and books, can make violence, economic exploitation, social discrimination, gender inequality, and sexual exploitation sometimes seem natural features of the world. The frequency and pervasiveness of these cultural messages can dull awareness of their harmful effects. Perhaps other intelligent species who exist in environments relatively free of such cultural artifacts, may be able to realize interdependence more readily.

In the opening chapter of their important book, How a Can I Help? (1985, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.), Ram Dass and Paul Gorman relate the story of a diver, who alone in 40 feet of water was suddenly so doubled over with stomach cramps that he could not even remove his weight belt. Sinking deeper, frightened, and running out of air in his tank, he believed he was going to die. Suddenly, he felt a prodding from behind, under his armpit, and thinking it was a shark, his terror and despair intensified. As the diver then described:

“But my arm was being lifted forcibly. Around into my field of vision came an eye – the most marvelous eye I could ever imagine. I swear it was smiling. It was the eye of a big dolphin. Looking into that eye, I knew I was safe.”“It moved further forward, nudging under, and hooked its dorsal fin under my armpit with my arm over its back. I relaxed, hugging it, flooded with relief. I felt that the animal was conveying security to me, that it was healing me as well as lifting me toward the surface. My stomach cramp went away as we ascended, and I relaxed with security, but I felt very strongly that it healed me too.”“At the surface, it drew me all the way in to shore. It took me into water so shallow that I began to be concerned for it, that it would be beached, and I pushed it back a little deeper, where it waited, watching me, I guess to see if I was alright.”

What in our own lives and environments would enable us to manage such a pure realization of interdependence, and the natural compassion that is an expression of this realization? Are there perhaps reminders of interdependence everywhere we look, going unnoticed in our hurry, distraction, and self-focus?

I would like to close with a few words of Thich Nhat Hanh, from his work, Interbeing:

“If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are.”

“Far away, in the heavenly abode of the great god Indra, there is a wonderful net which has been hung by some cunning artificer in such a manner that it stretches out infinitely in all directions. In accordance with the extravagant tastes of deities, the artificer has hung a single glittering jewel in each eye of the net, and since the net itself is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number…”

These are the words of Francis Cook, an author who published his views and analysis of the meanings of the Avatamsaka. This is a derivative description, not the”words of the Avatamsaka Sutra”. The actual quote from the sutra is quite different.

I have found over the years that many individual’s interpretive comments are provided by others as actual quotes from a sutra. Some teachers do this with their own interpretations as well. Unfortunately this can create much difficulty for those attempting to learn, and is a very widespread practice in western buddhism.